


"E — E For What?"

by SilverInk



Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: Angst, Episode Tag, Episode: s03e01 Ride, F/M, Sad and Sweet, unhappily married
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-28
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-04-13 16:02:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14115903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverInk/pseuds/SilverInk
Summary: “Why does Bruce call you Pagan?”“It’s a long story,” he sighed. “It’s a joke at my expense, because I don’t have a Christian name. Not one that I care to use, anyway.”“What does it start with?" she asked. He didn't answer, and Kay laughed a little. "I bet I can guess. Hold out your hands.”





	"E — E For What?"

**Author's Note:**

> it's come to my attention that I haven't ever written any good Angst, so here's something kinda angsty that I came up with while watching RIDE the other day...
> 
> thanks to Kira for proofreading! <3

The first time Kay met Morse, when Antony brought him to Bruce’s and her mansion, he appeared almost from nowhere. One moment it was just Kay and Elva, listening to the radio and trying out Elva’s new camera, and the next, there he was in the doorway. They just watched each other for a moment, and he seemed just as enthralled as Kay was.

“Are you married?” she asked bluntly. 

“Ah, no,” he said, surprised and a little confused. She told him how she’d been trying to set Elva up with someone, and she might as well throw the two of them together now that the first man was engaged. She definitely wasn’t asking for herself. 

“You might at least introduce us first,” Elva laughed.

“Elva Piper, this is…”

“Morse,” he said. Just Morse, no first name given.

“And I’m Kay.”

As they continued to talk, the more she noticed that he seemed awkward and terribly out of place here—this clearly wasn’t an environment he was very comfortable in—but he was sweet and very polite. He spent the afternoon with them by the lake, just talking and drinking champagne, and it was nice to have someone new and interesting to talk to. As much as she liked being around Elva and Antony and Bruce, they did get on her nerves a bit, and she was starting to really enjoy Morse’s company. He stayed until uniformed policemen approached them to ask about the woman who’d been run over nearby, and then Morse made a quick exit.

 

***

 

It was a few days before she saw him again, and she ran into him quite by accident at the fair. It was a relief to see him, to escape from her husband and the others for a while, and she all but plastered herself to his side.

“Come buy me a drink,” she said, linking her arm with his and smiling at him. “Then you can win me something.”

They talked about everything and nothing, and he was refreshingly genuine and honest, compared to the people she spent most of her time with; Kay was enthralled, and she found she didn’t want to leave his side for a moment. After they finished their drinks, they went to the shooting gallery and he hit all the targets, winning her a stuffed tiger. She moved to kiss him, but he pulled back with a quick joke: “The kiss is for the runner up, isn’t it?” 

Her husband. She half wished she wasn’t even married; maybe then he’d notice her. More than half, she realized later, when they were all piled into the car, Morse the only man sober enough to drive. Kay was in the seat beside him, and she couldn’t miss the way he occasionally threw a brief glance in her direction.

“Keep me warm,” she murmured, pressing closer to him, and he wrapped an arm around her. She felt so comfortable and safe, she nearly fell asleep like that, her head on his shoulder and the sharp bones of his cheek against the top of her head, until Bruce shook her and pulled her into the house.

 

***

 

The next night, she and Bruce went to one of Bixby’s parties, Bruce very grudgingly, and Morse was there, too. She was grateful: Bruce hadn’t been in the best of moods today, and she desperately needed a gentle, calming presence like Morse’s. 

Seeing Charlie again (or _Joss Bixby,_ as he was known now) was a shock—he loved her still, desperately, that much was clear, though she didn’t know how she felt anymore—and Kay would’ve been badly thrown for the rest of the night, had Morse not been there, talked with her, danced with her, held her gently, almost cautiously, in his arms. Her heart ached; he was such a genuinely good man… It was rare to meet someone like that, she’d learned, and she didn’t ever want to leave his side after tonight.

Later, they went for a walk together out in the garden, lanterns and lights illuminating the space around them, and it felt almost magical. They were completely alone, surrounded by trees and warm light, and Kay asked him something she’d been meaning to for a while.

“Why does Bruce call you Pagan?”

“It’s a long story,” he sighed. “It’s a joke at my expense, because I don’t have a Christian name. Not one that I care to use, anyway.”

“What does it start with?” she asked. He didn’t answer, and Kay laughed a little. “I bet I can guess. Hold out your hands.”

“Kay—” he tried to protest, but she took his hands and pulled him closer. Shaking his head, he laughed nervously, and she found the pulse point in his wrist. 

“Right. Now, look into my eyes.” He did, and Kay felt his pulse quicken just a little.

“A… B… C… D… E… F...” His pulse sped up again on E, and Kay grinned at him.

“It’s E, isn’t it? E. E for what?” This man was such a mystery to her; she wished he wouldn’t hide himself. She wanted to know _everything_. He leaned just slightly closer, and Kay could smell the faint scent of his aftershave.

“Embarrassment, mostly.”

“It’s just a name. Almost no one in the modeling industry goes by their real name. ‘A rose by any other’, ” she added playfully. Something changed in his expression at that, and he watched her almost sadly.

“What?”

“Just—you remind me of someone,” he said softly.

“Good someone or bad someone?” She could tell by his face that it wasn’t very good, though; his eyes told the whole story. 

“Both.” He continued to watch her, his eyes sad and lingering.

“Are you falling in love with me?” she asked. Morse swallowed, but didn’t look away. “Men do.”

“I can see how that might happen,” he whispered, and Kay was sure this was as close to an admission of love as she was going to get. He still didn’t want to get in the way of her marriage, and she wished again that she had never married.

“Then why don’t you kiss me?” Her fingers were on the lapel of his jacket, and she pulled him in, eagerly pressing her lips to his. The kiss was rough, a little awkward, but it was wonderful to have him so close. His lips were soft, but the pressure behind them was firm, and Kay thought Morse had given in. But then he pulled back, pressing his lips together, still desperately restraining himself.

“ _I can’t_ —” he tried to explain, "Bruce—" His eyes were squeezed shut like it was painful to distance himself from her. And of course; they’d been friends at university, of course he’d want to protect her husband. 

“Bruce doesn’t give a damn. He has a girl in town, didn’t you know that? A bus conductress, of all things.” Suddenly filled with despair for the things she couldn’t have, she continued, almost choking on the words: “Room for one more on top—”  

Why did he have to be so noble? No one else in the world would care if she cheated, certainly not Bruce; he’d cheated more than once, she was sure. They were really only together in theory now, and her very real feelings for E Morse were so much more important now than a contract that neither she or her husband honored any more. If only she could convince Morse of that, if only she could have him—

“There you are!” Antony burst abruptly through the trees behind them, the magic of the moment dissipating. Next to her, Morse wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, as if worried she’d left lipstick stains there.  “Thank God I found you!”

The walk back to Bixby’s mansion was awkward and mostly silent, a complete contrast to how pleasant the rest of her evening had been. She missed the warm feeling she’d had before, Morse’s closeness, his hands in hers, and the softness of his lips. She and Bruce left almost immediately, and her eyes met Morse’s one more time, longingly, as she was led out the door, away from him.


End file.
